Chapter Thirteen
Rachel was at ease as she rode into town the following afternoon to deliver her lesson plans to Jennifer.
She had told Adam, this time, where she would be going, so there would be no difficulty about that.
His jaw had tensed a little at her words, but he hadn’t argued.
He’d merely nodded and told her to be safe and to come back before the sun began to set.
There was plenty of time for that.
She was riding Ghost, the horse Adam had promised her the use of on her first day.
She’d come to consider him a friend. He was the oldest horse Adam owned, his coat going gray, but he was still strong and bore her easily.
He moved at a slow but steady pace. Adam probably considered him a safe horse, and Rachel didn’t mind that a bit.
She was secure and comfortable on his back.
Still, nerves began to creep in as they made their way up Main Street toward the schoolhouse.
This was where people might recognize her.
Nathan might be around, and what would he do if he saw her here?
Would he stop her and try to talk? Would he say something rude?
The thought of trying to converse with her stepfather was a dagger of fear in her heart.
He couldn’t drag her back to his house, she knew that—and yet, somehow, she feared it might happen.
If he saw her, he could pull her away from the new life she was beginning to build for herself.
And then there was the matter of her mother.
If she saw Sandra, it would pull her heart out of her chest. It had been excruciating to leave her mother the first time—she’d barely managed it.
Sandra didn’t care for Rachel, didn’t protect her against Nathan, so leaving had been the right thing to do—but it had felt very wrong, and it gutted her to think of her mother alone in that house with nobody but Nathan and Jennifer.
If I saw her, I might go back to her, for her sake. Because I can’t bear to think of her on her own. I might sacrifice myself for her, even though she has never done that for me.
God was on her side today. She didn’t see Nathan or Sandra as she made her way through town.
Some people stopped and looked at her—there was a whole group of ladies standing in front of the mercantile that stared as she passed, and then bent their heads together to whisper.
Her story must have worked its way through town.
People knew she had gone off with Adam Summers to his ranch, and who knew what they were supposing about that?
She held her head high and squared her shoulders, sitting upright in the saddle, refusing pointedly to do so much as look at the gossips. She would give them nothing, none of her attention. Let them whisper. Let them think whatever they liked.
She dismounted Ghost in front of the schoolhouse and wrapped his reins around the fence that encircled the yard.
Patting him on the shoulder, she reached into her apron and pulled out a sugar cube, which she held out to him.
Ghost accepted the treat and buried his nose in her palm briefly, and Rachel took heart.
This would be all right. She had faced more difficult challenges in her life than this one.
She took her satchel bag down and slung it over her shoulder.
Mustering her courage, she crossed the yard and went into the schoolhouse.
Today the children were still inside. One of the girls at the front of the room was standing, reading aloud from a book.
Rachel took a position in the back of the room, in the corner.
Jennifer’s eyes caught hers for a moment, and her face registered surprise, her jaw dropping momentarily.
But she recovered herself and returned her attention to her student.
When the girl had finished reading her passage and resumed her seat, Jennifer held up both hands to get everyone’s attention. “We’re going to take our morning recess a little early today,” she said. “Everyone go on outside, and I’ll come out and ring the bell when it’s time for you to come back.”
The students got to their feet, chattering animatedly, and rushed to the door. There was a crowd as they all clamored to be the first ones out. Rachel turned her face to the wall for a moment, hoping not to be noticed by Mason.
Luck was on her side once more. If he did see her, he said nothing about it. A moment later, the room was silent, and she knew it must have emptied out. She turned back toward the front.
“That didn’t take you very long,” Jennifer said. She had taken the seat behind her desk and was busying herself straightening some papers. Rachel had the distinct feeling her stepsister was avoiding looking at her. “Or…did you come here to tell me you had changed your mind?”
“No, I…”
Before Rachel could speak, the schoolroom door opened again. She turned, sure that this would be Mason returning to ask her what she was doing here—but it wasn’t.
The newcomer was a man, perhaps in his mid-thirties, short and stocky with close-cropped blond hair. He didn’t seem to notice Rachel at all. He walked straight to the front of the room. Jennifer rose to her feet to greet him, a smile on her lips and color in her cheeks.
“Mr. Levine,” she said. “I didn’t know you would be coming today.”
“Well, I thought those children were never going to go out for their break.” Mr. Levine leaned against the desk.
Rachel’s skin prickled. He was standing closer to Jennifer than was decent, especially given that they were all but alone in the room together.
She cleared her throat to remind them of her presence.
Mr. Levine turned. He looked her up and down appraisingly, as if examining a head of livestock. Rachel was even more sickened. She wrapped her arms around herself.
“Who is this?” Mr. Levine asked.
“This is my stepsister, Rachel,” Jennifer explained. “Rachel, this is Ted Levine, a member of the town committee. He’s been helping me with resources ever since I took the position as teacher.”
“Resources?” Rachel repeated.
“That’s right.” Mr. Levine’s voice was smooth, oily.
“Slates, chalk, books…everything a teacher needs to be successful. You know, not everyone in this town—not everyone on our committee—has confidence that a young and inexperienced teacher can do a good job. But I do.” He flashed Jennifer what was probably meant to be a winning smile, showing all his teeth.
“I know that Jennifer here can do a good job.”
Even the use of Jennifer’s given name from this man was off-putting to Rachel.
“It’s nice of you to help out,” she said slowly.
“But I’m sure my stepsister can manage this on her own.
She’s very skilled, you know. Very competent.
I’m sure she’ll have no trouble getting whatever she needs to be a very good teacher. ”
“Well, goodness,” Mr. Levine said, pressing a hand to his chest in a mockery of feeling scandalized. “You are quite the feisty one, aren’t you? So intent that she should do everything on her own…I don’t suppose you’re angling to get the teaching job yourself?”
“Rachel isn’t a teacher,” Jennifer said quickly. “She hasn’t been to school for it the way I have.”
“That’s right,” Rachel agreed. “Jennifer is the teacher in this family, not me.”
Mr. Levine walked over to her. “Still, lots of things run in families,” he mused. “Maybe teaching ability, and certainly good looks.” A smile played at the edges of his lips.
Jennifer’s shoulder’s stiffened and she turned away, but said nothing.
“Jennifer and I are not related by blood,” Rachel said firmly, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. That he would look at her like that…it was like finding dirt on her skin. “Whatever you think of her looks does not apply to me.”
Mr. Levine was undaunted—his smirk only broadened. Without turning from Rachel, he spoke to Jennifer. “Will we be able to meet today after school to talk about the needs of the classroom? I have many suggestions I could make.”
“We can certainly meet.” Jennifer’s voice was high and simpering, not at all the rough person Rachel had known from their years living together.
It was hard to imagine this version of Jennifer pouting and complaining when she didn’t get her way, hard to imagine her shouting for her breakfast. She was soft, pleading, supplicative.
Does she have feelings for this man? She couldn’t possibly—he’s dreadful.
Rachel faced Mr. Levine. “I need to speak with my stepsister,” she said. “Would you mind giving us some time to ourselves? It sounds as though the two of you have plans to meet later.”
“We do indeed,” Mr. Levine said. “Though if you wished to join us for that, I would have no objection. We all want to help the children as much as we can, after all.” He turned away from her, but not before winking at Jennifer.
Color rose in Jennifer’s cheeks, and she giggled.
Mr. Levine left the room, and Jennifer returned to her desk. She made a show of adjusting her skirts before sitting back down. Folding her hands, she looked up at Rachel. “I’m sorry I can’t offer you a proper seat,” she murmured. The color was still in her cheeks.
“It’s all right.” Rachel remained standing. She wasn’t going to try to squeeze into one of those child seats again. “I brought you the lesson plans we discussed.” She pulled them from her satchel and set them on the desk. “This ought to do for a start.”
Jennifer flipped through the pages, which Rachel had torn from her notebook. “Rachel, this is…well, this is wonderful,” she admitted. “There’s so much here. This will be so helpful. I’m astonished that you were willing to do this for me.”
Not for you. For the children. The unworthy thought came into her mind, and Rachel did her best to banish it. “Jennifer,” she said. “That man who was just here.”
“Mr. Levine,” Jennifer said. “He has also been so helpful to me. He really cares for the students.”
“Does he have a child attending this school?” Rachel turned slightly so that she could look out the window.
The children were running and playing in the yard, completely carefree.
There was no sign of Mr. Levine out there, and some of the tension left her.
The thought of him lingering on the playground with the children was an unpleasant one.
“No, he doesn’t.” Jennifer’s voice turned defensive. “And he doesn’t have to, Rachel. You don’t have a child attending this school, and you care about what happens here. Why should Mr. Levine be any different?”
Rachel opened her mouth to object that she did have a child, that she had Mason, but of course he wasn’t hers. She pressed her lips together. “I just wonder why he takes such an interest,” she said, striving to make her tone gentle.
“He’s an important member of the community,” Jennifer insisted. “He’s part of the Town Committee, and as such, he takes an interest in what goes on here. He was responsible for my being given this job. He told me as much himself.”
Rachel shook her head, confused. “Adam offered you this job,” she reminded her stepsister. “You and I were both there when it happened. You remember.”
“Yes, yes.” Jennifer waved a hand. “I know that. But he was sent by the rest of the committee. And it was they—and Mr. Levine especially—who told Mr. Summers what a good choice I would be.” She lifted her chin and preened at her own words. “It’s thanks to Mr. Levine that I have this job.”
Rachel gritted her teeth. “Jennifer,” she said.
“You need to be careful with that man.” She rested a hand on the desk, wishing that she could touch Jennifer’s shoulder—but Jennifer would never accept that from her, and it would be so odd for her to try it that it would never have the desired effect of making Jennifer feel cared for.
Jennifer pulled back and looked up at her, eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“He’s a much older man,” Rachel said urgently. “And the way he’s coming around here, trying to spend time with you…it seems very wrong to me.”
“Must you turn it into something sinister?” Jennifer threw up her hands.
“You just can’t see the good in anything, can you?
You were the same when you were living with us.
” She rose to her feet and walked to the window, her back to Rachel now.
She braced her hands on the ledge. “You always thought Father despised you, but you must know that he owed you nothing, and he kept you all these years. And meanwhile…you were Sandra’s real daughter. You were the one who was loved best.”
This was so ridiculous that it took all the strength Rachel possessed to keep from snapping at Jennifer—Nathan had despised her.
Had Jennifer really been ignorant of that, or did she simply want to rewrite history now?
And as for her mother…Rachel wouldn’t try to deny her love, but what good had it ever done?
Sandra had been a ghost of herself for years now.
Rachel pushed the questions away for now. “I just want you to be cautious of that man,” she said, coming up behind Jennifer. Again, she wished it was natural to rest a hand on her stepsister’s shoulder—but such a thing would have pushed Jennifer away rather than draw her close.
“Did you not see the way he was looking at me?” she murmured. “Did you not hear the way he was speaking to me? Whatever interest he has in you, Jennifer, he shows to everyone. You must not allow him to trick you into thinking you’re special to him.”
Jennifer whirled on her, eyes blazing. “You’re jealous of me,” she announced, the roughness back in her voice.
“You always have been. Jealous that Father favored me. Jealous that I was able to go to school and you couldn’t.
And now you’re jealous that a powerful and well-connected man is paying attention to me, and you want me to feel as though there’s something wrong with it.
He’s just trying to help me with the school, Rachel.
Thank you for the lesson plans, but I don’t need anything else from you. ”
Rachel felt slapped. She couldn’t even speak, because she knew that Jennifer was right—at least in part.
She had grappled with feelings of jealousy.
It was very difficult to know that Jennifer was the more favored of the two of them, and that Rachel had to fight for everything she had in life while Jennifer had most of it handed to her.
“Just be careful,” she said at last. “I don’t trust that man, Jennifer. You’re my…my sister. I don’t trust him, and I want you to be all right.”
She turned and hurried out of the schoolhouse before Jennifer could utter another word.